


Crazy Heart

by Makemegray



Series: The Weary Kind [2]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:23:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makemegray/pseuds/Makemegray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bianchi was 17 when she realized that she was never going to get married. Her chance had come and gone because she’d set her heart on someone who had only viewed her as a plaything. It had taken her years to get over it when she finally grasped the truth and by that point, she realized that she was better off. She made a promise to herself to always keep that devastating feeling in mind and always remember that nothing good could ever come of leaving her heart in someone else's hands.</p>
<p>She’d done well in that respect in the 8 years in between. Hadn’t once relied on a man for anything other than a basic bodily need. And then it was on her terms. No one ever spent the night and she always returned home.</p>
<p>Which made her current predicament all the more rankling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy Heart

  
Bianchi was 17 when she realized that she was never going to get married. Her chance had come and gone because she’d set her heart on someone who had only viewed her as a plaything. It had taken her years to get over it when she finally grasped the truth and by that point, she realized that she was better off.  
  
She made a promise to herself to always keep that devastating feeling in mind and always remember that nothing good could ever come of leaving her heart in someone else's hands.  
  
She’d done well in that respect in the 8 years in between. Hadn’t once relied on a man for anything other than a basic bodily need. And then it was on her terms. No one ever spent the night and she always returned home.   
  
Which made her current predicament all the more rankling.  
  
Why all of her carefully made plans seemed to be worthless from where she stood.  
  
She took a breath and placed a hand on the door that she had been staring at for the past five minutes.   
  
What awaited her on the other side was not something that she had ever wanted to face and if her mind did any more flip flopping she wouldn’t be facing it today.   
  
It would be so easy to run...to take off the sweltering dress and take her hair down and wash off the ridiculous makeup…   
  
She could run and be done with all of this nonsense and get her life back on track could forget that any of this had ever happened…   
  
She pushed the door open a fraction and peeked out at the crowd that had filled the pews. She knew that the Cavallone, The Vongola and other important members of the alliance on side would be on Dino’s side, and her father’s family on her side, even if she couldn’t see them past the altar.   
  
What she could see, if she pressed her face a little closer to the crack, in between the Priest and Romario was the idiot himself, hair slicked back and attempting to look serious for once and failing miserably. With that big dumb grin on his face as members of the assembly called out congratulations across the church.   
  
She opened the door a fraction wider to peer into the front rows, so she could make out the faces of those sitting.   
  
Sawada, looking nervous as usual, Yamamoto grinning absently, Hayato scowling, Sasagawa looking ready to burst into tears on queue, The Vongola Ninth and his right hand man. Iemitsu Sawada, Shamal and Yamamoto Tsuyoshi rounding out the pew on Dino’s side and on her own sat her Mother. Violet hair in a severe bun and one of those disgusted looks like she couldn’t believe that she had graced such people with her company.   
  
Bianchi almost wanted to go through with it just for the simple fact that she knew her Mother wouldn’t (and didn’t) approve. She knew the woman would never speak to her again and for that she was almost willing to do anything, even marry the fool of a Cavallone who’d gotten her into this mess in the first place.   
  
Her mother didn't approve of mafia stock. Even though she was born and bred _cosa nostra_ and had married into one of the oldest families, she had always blamed made men for ruining her life before it had even begun.   
  
And so, she'd always wanted something else for Bianchi. An intellectual, an athlete, a celebrity. Someone who didn't make a living off of ending other peoples lives.   
  
The fact that Bianchi herself had become a hitman was the reason that she hadn't spoken to her mother since the name Poison Scorpion Bianchi had become legend.  
  
She knew that wasn’t a fair assumption. That it had taken them both to start this and that she should just be adult enough to admit that…but the teenager in her refused to share the blame.   
  
The teenager in her wanted to rail against Dino and against her father and the motherfucking Vongola and anyone else who had had a hand in trapping her like this.   
  
The teenager in her wanted to deny that she was even happy about what was happening on the other side of the door and it was that part that was the strongest supporter of her gathering her dress and running.   
  
The teenager in her didn’t seem to have any concept of pride and so she was deadest on ignoring it.   
  
Maybe.   
  
A hand on her shoulder caused her to yelp a little and spin around, reaching under her dress and realizing too late that she’d been disarmed for fear of her Poison Cooking eating through the lace of her dress.   
  
“Hahi! B-Bianchi-san, it’s Haru!” Even with the declaration, it still took Bianchi a moment to calm her instincts down and not find another weapon with which to decapitate one of her Bridesmaids.   
  
“Haru…hasn’t anyone told you that it’s a very bad idea to sneak up on a trained killer?”   
  
“Hahi?!”   
  
“Haha, Bianchi-san you seem nervous! You’re setting a bad example for the rest of us for when we get married.” At this rate, she might be tempted to decapitate all three as Kyoko and Chrome materialized beside a shaking Haru.   
  
And the teenager inside wanted to slap Kyoko for the comment as Bianchi’s eyes flickered to the sparkling diamond on the girls left hand.   
  
“Theres a difference in our situations. You love Sawada Tsunayoshi. I couldn’t care less whether Cavallone lives or drops dead at that altar.”   
  
A gasp from the three made her roll her eyes and push past them to the vanity. At this rate, she might as well attempt to look as if she was getting ready to walk out on that red carpet (Tacky. Typical Cavallone.)   
  
She sat before the mirror and lifted her arms to tighten the pins in her hair when she felt someone do it for her and locked eyes with Kyoko in the mirror.   
  
Her shocked expression was gone and was replaced by that ever serene smile that she carried. The one that glowed lately and the one that Bianchi wanted desperately to slap off her face.   
  
“If you don’t love Dino-san…then why are you doing this?”   
  
Because her father was a tyrant, Reborn was a sociopath and because Tsuna was a doormat. And because her feelings didn’t matter.   
  
“Because…it’s the only logical conclusion at this point.” Kyoko tilted her head to the side as she adjusted the veil.   
  
“Oh? Why is that?” Bianchi grit her teeth and refrained from wanted to choke the girl with her garter.   
  
“Because…after a certain point...in our culture…arranged marriages are inevitable if you haven’t already married the person of your choice. My father, “ She said the word like it was arsenic that she was being forced to choke down. “Thought he was being benevolent when he thought this whole thing up. How he got wind that there was something going on with Cavallone and I, is anyones guess.” Kyoko nodded and placed her hands on Bianchi’s shoulders, looking her dead in the eye in the reflection of the mirror.   
  
“But…you don’t have to do it, do you? I mean…just because he’s your father, it doesn’t mean that you have to go along with this. If he really loved you, he’d understand.”   
  
She didn’t clarify which ‘he’ she meant and Bianchi didn’t ask. She didn’t trust herself to speak over the scream that was threatening to bubble up her throat. Not when all Kyoko had done was put her right back at square one.  
  
The girl patted her shoulder before walking away to join Haru and Chrome once more.  
  
Bianchi stood and went back to the door.  
  
Things were so much easier when no one knew.  
  
When they’d first started and it was nothing more than a fling to help them pass the time.  
  
Before Cavallone fucked everything up and got them caught.

 

  
  
The first time they’d met outside of family business, she’d been flabbergasted by him and certainly not in a good way.  
  
It was in a galleria in Milan and his men kept losing him in the crowds as he shopped.  
  
When they did, he knocked over three displays at a time and desperately apologized to the clerks from behind his sunglasses.  
  
His reputation preceded him, however and even with the flimsy disguise, no one is going to say an unkind word. Not when they’ve heard stories of this Bucking Horse. Who is clumsy in everyday life to throw off his attackers. When they’ve heard that Squalo-Fucking-Superbia was wary of fighting him in a one-on-one battle.  
  
They had heard stories of this young Don who wrested Campania out of camorra hands and secured it for his alliance. The big brother of the Boss of all Boss, the Vongola Decimo.  
  
They didn’t say a word, just picked up the clothes with a smile and apologized for the racks being in his way, while other employees subtly escorted his wayward men back to him.  
  
From her position across the street at a little café, sipping espresso, Bianchi watched this occur four times in successive shops before she decided she’d had enough.  
  
She finished quickly and tipped the barista before crossing the street, taking his arm before he can reach out to examine a rack of silk ties.  
  
His eyes widen and he went for his whip before he recognized her.  
  
Because the Poison Scorpion’s reputation preceded her as well (Older sister of the Vongola Tenth’s feared Right-hand man and the most deadly woman in Sicilia), Bianchi had darkened her hair, worn contacts and covered her distinctive tattoo.  
  
In Milano, when she’s there on vacation and doesn’t care to be hunted for the price on her head, she is Cara. The sweet but tragic butcher’s daughter whose family was slaughtered by those dastardly Gesso before they were exterminated by the Vongola.  
  
She owes them her life and will rush to defend them from naysayers who simply can’t resist her haunted blue eyes as they gaze beseechingly.  
  
She turns them on Dino and he finally puts his whip away, turning to her with a rueful but wide smile.  
  
“Poi—“  
  
“ _Signore_ Cavallone!” She interrupted, grasping his arm tighter, nails digging in as a warning to play along. “My name is Cara and I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am to you and the Vongola for avenging my family!”  
  
He’s smarter than he looks and he stops being surprised by her affected Milanese accent and the smile turns seductive.  
  
He pats her hand and draws her closer.  
  
“ _Di niente, Signorina_. It was our pleasure. We are here to serve the people after all.” In spite of herself, the drawl makes her blush and she demurs, attempting to pull her arm away but Dino holds it fast.  
  
He reaches out for the ties anyway, suddenly all grace as he fingers a burgundy one.  
  
“You’ve come at a perfect time, _cara mia_. Which tie do you think would best suit me? Say…if I was taking a lovely woman out for the evening." He turns to her again and that smile turns into a leer and Bianchi has a brief moment of doubt that she’d bitten off more than she could chew before she regains control.  
  
With her free hand, she ignores the tie he suggested and reaches for a crimson one, pulling it from the rack and holding it against his shoulder.  
  
“Crimson highlights that sunny blond, _Signore_. It’s the color that makes all others bow at its feet. The color of passionate true love. I’m sure you knew that already.” She can’t resist a smirk back at him and the one he turns on her makes her stomach flip.  
  
Bianchi isn't sure how it happens after that, but before she knows it, he’s bought the tie and bought her a new dress while he’s at it. She follows him to his car and they speed off to some obscure and very expensive restaurant. The kind where all the customers are connected and the politicians are the worst villains there.  
  
They have a meal and he’s charming and suave and doesn’t spill or knock anything over or set anything on fire. There’s not a single one of his men in the restaurant and before she can puzzle about what that might mean, he’s set his hand on her thigh like it’s the most normal thing in the world, only smirks at her again when she raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
It’s a given that they go back to her place. They’re much too practical to flirt around the idea of sleeping together. Not with lives like theirs and opportunities that only come around once and a while.  
  
He leaves before she wakes up and she hadn’t expected anything different. It was a whirlwind of a night, based on a coincidence and a mutual desire.  
  
She doesn’t expect to wake up with her living room filled with burgundy roses and her cell phone to ring moments later.  
  
“ _Ciao, bella~_ ” He starts on a laugh and Bianchi almost swallows her cigarette. “Do you like the flowers?”  
  
“….How did you get this number, Cavallone? Hayato and Reborn are the only ones who have it.”  
  
Another laugh and she wants to stub the cigarette out in his eye.  
  
“Are you forgetting who I am, _cara_? If I wanted it, I could get the Queen of England’s cell phone number. It just so happened that Reborn wasn’t all that withholding about it. I simply mentioned that I wanted your number to contact you about a job and he gave it over without batting an eye.”  
  
The reminder that Reborn cared so little of something that she’d considered something of a gift stung briefly before she remembered that it was Dino she was mad at and Dino she would be castrating.  
  
“What do you want, idiot?” He chuckles again. Like he’s unaware that she’s seething.  
  
“I just wanted to invite you to dinner again. I had a good time last night. During and after.” And as loathe as she was to admit it, Bianchi couldn’t find it in herself to disagree with him.  
  
She couldn’t find it in herself to refuse either.  
  
Not this time or the twelve successive times that he asks her.  
  
Soon he doesn’t even have to ask anymore. It’s a given that they’ll be spending the evening together and neither says a word about it.  
  
His car pulls up to her apartment building at the exact same time every night, he gets out to ring the buzzer and she’s striding out of the building before his finger leaves the button.  
  
They eat at the same restaurant and eat the same meal because a little stability is never uncalled before, before they head back to Bianchi’s place.  
  
He never stays and she never asks him to.  
  
She always wakes up to flowers.  
  
The first conscious breath she takes is filled with that fragrance and it’s become so much of a constant that the one morning it’s absent she sits up in vague alarm.  
  
The sheets resist her movement and an arm snakes around her waist. The stiletto she keeps hidden in a seam of her headboard is in her hand before she recognizes the tousled blond hair on the other pillow.  
  
She’s tugged back down and Dino takes the knife from her hands with a snort, tossing it over the edge of the bed before kissing her.  
  
His morning breath is horrible but the way he touches her, skimming her thighs with his fingertips, makes her forget about it.  
  
Forget about the fact that the sun is up and he’s still in her bed and she hasn’t even thought about kicking him out.  
  
She doesn’t think about it when he’s in her shower, washing her hair and laughing at the black dye that swirls around their feet or when he’s in her kitchen, scrambling eggs and not burning anything, wearing her sweatpants because he’d neglected to bring a change of clothes.  
  
The only time she does think about it, is that evening when she’s following him out to his car and he’s wearing the suit from the night before.  
  
When they drive in the opposite direction of that little restaurant and the drive takes an hour and a half.  
  
He can’t keep his hands to himself and hasn’t all day.  
  
From a light hand over hers or on the small of her back to smoothing over her ass or the curve of her hip. He’s always touching and she can’t find it in herself to mind it too much.  
  
He can’t be suave all the time and when he can’t, he relies on body language.  
  
The pull up a winding driveway to a ridiculously huge estate and Bianchi has a moment of trepidation before she turns to Dino.  
  
He smirks at her. That roguish thing that tilts the corner of his mouth up when he knows she’s underestimated him before he gets out of the car and comes around to open her door.  
  
“I thought we’d try something different tonight. Keep up today’s trend. I’ve been your guest up until now, so now it’s your turn.”  
  
She doesn’t mention the butterflies in her stomach when he hands her out of the car as the galloping horse on the wrought iron gates splits open to welcome them.  
  
She keeps silent as they make their way in and she’s led to the dining room while Dino changes.   
  
When he joins her, she’s able to get over her shock at the abrupt change and confront him about it.  
  
“What are you playing at, Cavallone?” He pauses in pouring her a glass of wine and tilts his head to the side curiously.  
  
“Playing? I’m not playing at all.” Her eyes narrow and can’t resist grabbing his tie to yank him closer, uncaring if she’s choking him or not.  
  
“Then what is it that you think you’re doing? This morning and now this?” His hand covers hers and he smiles. One of those dazzling things that makes Bianchi wish she’d brought her sunglasses.  
  
“I thought I was romancing you. Am I doing it wrong?” She lets go of the tie in her shock and he takes advantage of their proximity to curl a hand around her nape and bring her in for another of those kisses that sear her bones. “If you’d like me stop, we can just cut to the chase.”  
  
She discovers the next morning that the Cavallone chefs hold grudges when their food is wasted and that racing up the stairs of a three-story mansion in heels is never good for ones instep.  
  
She wakes up in Cavallone’s bed, snuggled against him and that familiar floral scent in the air.  
  
This time, the roses are crimson red and she has a sinking feeling that she’s been taken for a ride when she can’t find it in herself to be too upset about it.

 

  
  
The wedding march starts and it brings Bianchi crashing back to the present and the bemused feeling she always gets when she remembers how all of this started comes crashing to the ground when he remembers how it’s ended.  
  
Apparently, there is no code of silence between the servants in a mafia household. They talk and word spreads and sooner or later someones sister has a boyfriend who's cousin's best friend works in the house of another mafia boss and the entire fucking goddamn organization knows what goes on behind every bedroom door on every estate.   
  
It ends after the third time she wakes up in Dino's bed, when her cell phone rings and another unrecognizable number pops up. When she answers it, her blood runs cold to hear her father's voice on the other end.   
  
Because even though she may have abandoned his family and his name, she's still a daddy's girl and the thought of talking to him while wrapped in the idiots arms makes her feel more guilty than anything else.   
  
She slips out of bed and into the sitting room before she calls him back.   
  
The conversation is brief. He knows everything and isn't happy about it. He asks what she intends to do and when she can think of no way to respond, when she's silent, he hangs up on her.   
  
And for the life of her, Bianchi can’t remember why she didn’t just break it off right then and there.   
  
She heard later that Dino had taken a meeting with her father.   
  
Given the question that he asked her the next time they met, it was obvious what they'd talked about.   
  
In spite of herself, she'd been swept off her feet by Cavallone once again when he’d gotten down on one knee the next time they’d seen each other and in her shock, she’d yes before she thought of the implications.  
  
He’d lifted her out of her chair and kissed the sensibility right out of her.  
  
It wasn’t until the next afternoon, when Romario was calling her to start making arrangements that she’d realized the gravity of what she’d done and that it was far too late to back out now.  
  
She knew that she would only hurt Dino that way and that for some reason she seemed to give a damn about his feelings now.  
  
A hand on her shoulder makes her cringe and she realizes that she’s out of time.  
  
She needs another hour or so to convince herself that she can be happy like this. That she’s not about to walk out to her execution.  
  
She turns to face the owner of the hand on her shoulder and barely holds back a snarl when her father smiles down at her. Because for all that she may blame him for this and for all that he may have done in the past, she will always be Daddy’s little assassin.  
  
“You look troubled, _tesoro mio_. Is there something the matter?” She wants to scream at him and the teenager in her wants to punch him for even daring to ask something so glaringly obvious but instead she returns the smile, pats his hand where it rests and turns back to the door.  
  
She doesn’t need to tell her Father that for him to understand. He’s always been good at reading people.  
  
He gives her shoulder a light squeeze and sighs.  
  
“Should I tell them to stop? Do you want to leave?” She knows what that sigh means. It’s the one he uses when he’s disappointed that a mission didn’t go perfectly. The one he uses right before he pulls the trigger.  
  
“No, Papa…But….is this really necessary?” He tilts his head to the side and the gesture reminds her so much of Dino that her heart leaps up into her throat for a moment, constricting her breathing.  
  
“Is what, _cara_? I thought you would be happy?” She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that this is the last thing in the world she wants and that this is just going to screw everything up and she’s going to end up unhappy just like her parents did and she’s just going to resent Dino in a few years even if she may care for him the slightest bit now.  
  
She doesn’t need to say it before Luciano is nodding and pats her shoulder once more.  
  
“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”  
  
He disappears from the waiting room and Bianchi is somehow able to breathe again. The wedding march stops and a murmur rises in the crowd.  
  
She turns to the door to watch her father stride up the isle leisurely.   
  
He stops when he reaches Dino and leans in close, obviously telling him something before leaning back with a smile, clapping Dino on the shoulder.  
  
Before Bianchi can puzzle out the behavior, Dino is leaving the altar and retracing her father’s steps. It’s obvious that he only had one destination in mind.  
  
When he arrives in the waiting room, she shuts the door. She knows this has the potential to get very ugly and if she could hear people talking through the crack, then people were sure to be able to hear yelling on the other side.  
  
Dino doesn’t say a word when he enters, just watches as she crosses the room. He’s making it her choice if they have this conversation and she’s distantly grateful.  
  
She goes to sit at the vanity and loosens the pins from her hair, taking the veil off and setting it in front of the mirror before turning to face him.  
  
“This is ridiculous. You don’t want to marry me, Cavallone.” She’d been expecting to be answered with that headtilt and clueless grin. All he does is look at her and it makes her blood run cold.  
  
It’s the look she knows he gives to people before they taste his whip or the butt of his gun.  
  
“Why would you assume that?” She’d expected a denial, maybe even agreement, but the question and the tone it’s asked in—soft like he’s trying to maintain control – make her stomach flip. She can’t look him in the eye when he looks at her like that and instead turns back to the vanity.  
  
“Because. You’re Dino Cavallone and you like to have a good time. You like petite girls who laugh at your jokes and don’t think your clumsiness is a flaw. You don’t like women who would have to split their time in between killing and raising your family. Why would you ever want someone who was in the same business as you? Hitwomen aren’t for marrying. We’re for using occasionally before you go about daily life.”  
  
She was afraid she wasn’t coherent enough in her panic but a glance at him in the mirror and the frown that was overtaking that blank expression corrected her.  
  
“What…you think you’re not good enough for me or something?” The disgust in his voice at the prospect had her turning around to face him again.  
  
“That’s not what I meant at all. I meant that…there are people who are better suited for what you need. Don’t you agree?” Something about the last sentence seemed to make him snap and he strode forward to grab her shoulders.  
  
“Since when was it your job to tell me what I need?! All this time, all I’ve ever done was think about what you need! I didn’t stay over because you seemed to be done with me after we slept together. I started because you wouldn’t let me go that one night! But I kept my distance, even then because I knew you would freak out if I got too close! And this whole wedding thing…I asked you because your father told me that you wanted this! If you didn’t then why in the hell did you say yes?!”  
  
It was her turn to stare after his outburst and his hands only tightened the longer she did.  
  
When it got to the point of pain, she pushed him away and stood up. Putting distance between them so she could think.  
  
She’d had a reason when she said yes and it certainly wasn’t because she wanted to get married.  
  
It was because he’d asked her and he’d been so excited by the prospect that she couldn’t bring herself to say no and dash all that enthusiasm that he had.  
  
Because she cared about his feelings and more than that, somehow she’d started to care about him.  
  
“Maybe because I knew you wanted it and didn’t want to hurt you.” She responded to the question as tactfully as possible without revealing the whole truth. If there was one thing that being her father’s daughter had taught her, it was how to evade a question with half-lies.  
  
“So what are you doing now?” That flat tone was back and she refused to accept the fact that it made her heart hurt to hear it.  
  
“I’m hurting you. Because I know that it’s what’s best for the both of us.”   
  
“…You’re assuming shit again. Whoever said I wanted what was best?”   
  
“Whoever said—“  
  
“Maybe I want to be terribly unhappy with you for the rest of my life. Maybe I think that there’s chance that we wouldn’t be unhappy at all and that we could be something extraordinary. You don’t want to hear it, I know and I won’t tell you now but you know exactly how I feel about you. You’re just too scared to open yourself up to it and take a leap. What if this is the only chance we get and we miss it because you’re too terrified?”  
  
It was a challenge and she knew it and usually, Bianchi wouldn’t hesitate. But this was different.  
  
“So maybe I am scared. Maybe I’m afraid that even if might love you now, in 5 years someone else will come along and what I feel for you will never compare to what I feel for them. Maybe I’m afraid that I’ll be too damn Catholic to divorce your ass and go be with that person. Maybe I’m afraid that I’ll end up just like my parents and that I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.”   
  
The blank expression softened and he stared at her for a while longer before going to her again and taking her by the shoulders, gently this time.  
  
"And if I promise to divorce you first?" She frowned and he broke into that ridiculous grin again. The one that made her want to forget all of the reservations she had and just dive in head first.   
  
And because she knew that he meant it, even when he was the one who wanted it, she couldn't stay too furious at him.   
  
She backed out of reach and began to slip out of the dress, leaving it a pile of lace and silk on the floor as Dino watched, confusing beginning to override his grin.   
  
He didn't say a word until she'd gotten back into her street clothes and had sat down at the vanity to remove the make-up.   
  
"Bianchi..."  
  
"What are you doing standing there in that penguin suit, Cavallone? I know a nice little church on a hill about a half hour away from here. A perfectly nice priest will be perfectly happy to marry the tragic butchers daughter to the gallant mafioso for a few euro and a nice bottle of wine."   
  
She met his eyes in the mirror and watched the exact moment when his brain caught up and the grin was back as he began loosening his tie.   
  
"Is an Amarone alright?"


End file.
